


Beginner's Luck

by DarkBlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: CPTSD, Complete, Dom Ginny, Dom Luna, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/F, Kitsune, Light Bondage, Magical kitsune, One Shot, Past Abuse, Rope Bondage, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkBlue/pseuds/DarkBlue
Summary: Ginny had thought Luna would be a novice to being a sub, but she was wrong - in more ways than one.





	Beginner's Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I have this really weird love of thinking the obvious dom/sub roles apply based on personality and being wildly wrong. It's also impossible for me to write Ginny without writing in the darkness she obviously carries but is never mentioned. And Luna belongs in the house of the wise. I think people overlook that.
> 
> for nacho who fostered my love of linny by accident <3

Ginny savored her icy beer, feeling the glass knock between her teeth as she surveyed Luna across the table. Luna was smiling at her, and not coyly. That’s what she loved most about Luna. Luna was never coy, nor deceitful, nor secretive. Luna _looked_ far past the normal standard of what society deemed appropriate to look. And Luna smiled.

It was a leisurely Saturday at their flat share, and they had just finished dinner. Ginny cooked, as Ginny always cooked, as Luna had a peculiar distractibility to light things on fire, forget them in the oven, or - when she was especially concentrated – to make inedible ‘experiments’ with food groups that should never be paired together.

“You never know,” Luna had said serenely as Ginny had scraped their plates clean with a glower. “Sauerkraut and ice cream may really catch on.”

They were in the warm afterglow of good food and good company, nursing drinks across the table and thinking casually of going to bed, though it would be hours before they slept.

“Luna,” said Ginny with a forced terrible casualness that betrayed her desperate interest. “Have you ever…er…” Luna was staring at her with her protuberant icy blue eyes, head canted in interest, smiling gently. Ginny flushed hot. She felt like whatever she was about to suggest was too filthy for the purest heart to ever walk the earth to hear. She put down her beer hastily with her revised decision. She would be gentle with her. She would adore her. She would let Luna be gentle back. It would be enough.

It _had_ to be enough.

The only problem, was, of course, that it wasn’t. Ginny was a Gryffindor, and she lived for thrill and heat and passion and _new._ Of exploration and slick tongues and ecstasies and goosebumps. Of wanting to make Luna whimper, to wring her of sounds Luna wasn’t sure she could make, to make her come again and again and again and just once more for me love just once-

She realized she was panting in the back of her throat, and Luna was staring at her bemusedly, still smiling a serene little smile.

“Are you ready for bed?” she asked instead, and Ginny nodded, reminding herself that Luna was the softest of flowers, the sweetest moonlight, something to be bathed in, not drunk down in a gulp; something to be caressed, not fingered and twisted; something to savor, not to bite. But Ginny wanted to, badly.

“You were going to ask me something?” Luna said calmly as they put the dishes in the sink to wash themselves and filtered after each other down the short walk from the table to the door to the bedroom.

“It’s nothing,” said Ginny at once.

Luna said nothing as she opened the bedroom door, glancing up at the ceiling where their mattress was levitated. The flat was tiny, and keeping their bed off the ground when not in use (or vanished, or shrunk) helped open up the flat into more rooms. They had a whole shelf of shoeboxes that Hermione had helped them organize. Each shoebox was a room set: a lounge, a living room, a dining room with more chairs than the little card table by the kitchen, a craft room and a half-finished game room for hosting Neville and Hannah or Ron and Hermione, though Ginny’s brother was still awkward around Luna and her, and uncomfortable in the presence of so many girls at once without another crutch. Even Harry had come, to Luna’s delight and Ginny’s mild discomfort, to a few parties they had thrown.

Luna brought down the bed softly to the floor and began to undress with the sort of casual disregard for her own body that Ginny both hated to see in Luna and admired with an envy she wished she shared.

“Stop,” she said, and Luna stopped at once, making Ginny’s heart flutter and flush with pride. If she could only make Luna understand, that it was a game, that she would never _hurt_ her, that she could make her feel-

“Do you want to do it?” asked Luna politely, topless and in a flowing skirt clearly filched from her mother’s closet in the seventies.

“Yes,” said Ginny, coming around the bed and toeing off her trainers. “Of course I do.”

Luna’s skin was translucent, an almost blue alabaster even glowing like her namesake in the softened candlelight of their bedside lamps. Her long dirty blonde hair was clean and smelled of freesia, though Ginny fingered the ends of it, making a mental note to trim it again.

Growing up, Luna had never had a mother figure – or even close friends – to point out hygiene like haircuts, or frequent washes, or sewing tattered clothing. Her father Xenophilius was so enamored with his daughter, he had never said a word of correction. In anyone less like Luna, this would have corrupted the most insatiable of children, but Luna was pure, and soft, and sweet. She didn’t understand the difference between her family and others, and never understood the difference between her own interests and eccentricities, and basic societal standards. Ginny was helping her, slowly, and learning herself that some things were wonderful the way they were, and rules be damned.

“You are beautiful,” Ginny told her quietly, kissing Luna’s eyelids fluttering shut beneath her lips and repressing her own drive, trying to quiet it, to tame it, to adjust it to the mood she set with Luna. With the gentleness. With the love.

“You are beautiful,” echoed Luna simply, reaching to pull down Ginny’s sloppy bun, enjoying the long orange sweep that almost tickled her waist.

Luna was taller than Ginny, but only by half a head, and she let Ginny kiss her neck and caress her breasts with a humming sweetness that cut off abruptly as she said – as if no time in the conversation had passed –

“You wanted to ask me something at the kitchen table. You said, ‘have you ever-‘”

“Luna,” murmured Ginny, switching sides of her neck, hoping to make Luna catch her breath and stop talking. Luna talking about it was only feeding the flames deep in her abdomen, making her thighs twitch with the idea of it. She was _trying_ to channel it. Trying to dive deep into her feelings and closeness – something that did not come easily to her.

“Stop, please,” and Ginny stopped as Luna pushed her back, not even looking remotely winded, though the black of her pupils was blown wide as they dilated, eating at the light blue of her irises.

“What?” Ginny was miffed. She must be off her game. She and Luna had never had any trouble in that department before. Luna had been her first female partner, and she had been a patient and loving teacher, or so Ginny had thought. She irritated herself that she was so competitive as to want to be good at pleasing her girlfriend.

“I would like you to tell me what you were going to ask me.”

Ginny’s cheeks heated. “Luna, don’t be stupid. It was just a thought at dinner. I would really like to go to-”

“Don’t lie.” And Luna’s voice didn’t change its serene tone, but did acquire a snap of coldness. Luna wasn’t exactly a legilimens, because Ginny knew – too well – what it was like to have someone in her head, but Luna was extraordinarily gifted at micro-expressions, at body language, at interpreting through observing because it’s all she had known to do. So few people had interacted with her before – or even during – Hogwarts, Luna relied primarily on her own observations to adjust to social cues (if she took them) in much the same way Hermione relied on books and knowledge to skate her over conversations.

“Luna,” and Ginny sank back on the bed, mortified, cupping her fingers over her cheekbones, digging in fingernails.

“Are you embarrassed?” asked Luna in her dreamiest voice, which only made Ginny feel more flustered and stupid than before.

She nodded.

“Why?”

“Because,” said Ginny unwillingly, but knew it was better to try to answer Luna than to shrug her off, lest they get into an hours-long fight about ‘nothing.’ “Because…you’re so…so good and…and I’m not.”

“I don’t understand,” said Luna simply, sitting on the mattress next to Ginny, and sinking towards her.

Ginny smiled ruefully. “I know you don’t.”

“I don’t understand why you think I wouldn’t be able to understand something merely because we are different people.”

“It’s not that. It’s…er…” and Ginny flushed hot, and flung herself into the pillow. She was on the wrong side of the bed, and it smelled like Luna. It was unbearable, and she turned her face to one side for air.

Luna’s soft hand was rubbing Ginny’s back, and it felt so good, so _comforting_ , she wanted to spit for her stupid hormonal, teenage randiness. Luna was _everything_. Luna was a good listener, and a good comforter; she loved Ginny, and Ginny loved her. There was no need for Ginny to spoil it all with her appetite. She sat up miserably, and reached for Luna.

Luna held her by the shoulder gently, preventing her from resuming her foreplay. “Please tell me.”

“It’s stupid,” mumbled Ginny, still very red.

“Maybe to you.”

“It’s really dumb and embarrassing and-”

“Ah.” Luna smiled in a pleased way, a child piecing together a riddle. “It’s about being lovers?”

Ginny flopped back onto the bed theatrically and nodded into Luna’s pillow.

“Is there something you want?” Luna was taking it so well in stride, making it seem so natural, so _easy_ , that Ginny was embarrassed she was acting so petulantly. She sat up, glancing at Luna as she took a hank of her own hair and ran it through both hands over and over, a security blanket or a climbing rope – depending on how the conversation went.

“It’s just…er…I know I’m inexperienced and-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Luna interrupted, frowning slightly.

“Well there are things that I…er…”

“Like?”

Ginny nodded miserably.

“That we haven’t been doing?”

Ginny dropped her face in her hands and cried out in a long string of breathless words: “But Luna it doesn’t _matter!_ These months with you have been – and the sex has been – and I mean you are – and I feel – and I- I mean – it – “

“What is it that you wanted to try?” Luna asked simply, cutting Ginny off, not even attempting to wade through the quagmire of Ginny’s conscience.

“Have you er…ever…” Ginny curled her fingers into her face even harder. Why was this so _difficult?_ Luna was so easy to talk to about everything else. Her insights always made Ginny laugh, made Ginny feel less alone for thinking such strange and dramatic thoughts.

“I…” and she cleared her throat. “I er…like to…to play,” she mumbled.

“With me?” Luna asked patiently, and Ginny nodded again, darting quick, hopeful brown eyes in Luna’s direction. Luna’s face was as placid as ever, even if there was a small, quirked smile hovering about her lips.

“It wouldn’t be harsh!” Ginny was quick to say. “I’d be ever so good. You’d like it, I _promise!_ ”

“You want to dominate?” and Luna’s voice was uninflected, curious.

“Y-yes,” mumbled Ginny again, feeling as if her face might never flush back to its normal color. She realized all at once that Luna was sitting bare chested in a skirt on the bed, her long hair dusting her small, rose colored nipples into semi-hardness. Ginny caught her breath.

Luna only cocked her head, smiling in quiet amusement. “Alright,” she agreed easily. “We’ll try it.”

Ginny could hardly believe her luck. She crashed hot lips into Luna’s, knowing her face was still burning when she felt the coldness of Luna’s velvety cheeks against her own. “Thank you,” she mumbled helplessly against Luna’s face. “Thank you.”

“You only needed to ask,” said Luna, gently stroking down the back of Ginny’s hair.

Ginny felt it monumentally important to get this right. She stepped back, looking Luna over, biting her own lip as she mentally raced through scenes she should play first. An easy one. A beginner’s piece for inexperienced Luna.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she told Luna quickly.

“Do you want me to call you something?” Luna asked innocently.

Ginny felt a molten crash in her abdomen almost jelly her knees, but she shook her head quickly, swallowing her dry mouth. “No, love. Not today.”

Luna smiled at her serenely, completely trusting, and Ginny took a deep breath. _Merlin don’t let her corrupt this beacon of light._

“Stand up,” she commanded quietly, and Luna rose to her feet without protest, the skirt riding lower on her hips, revealing flowered underwear that was so sweet, so unassuming, Ginny almost tackled her back to the bed, mouth watering with what was to come. But no. Slowly. For Luna.

_For Luna._

Ginny took a step forward, looking Luna over, before carefully hooking suddenly cold fingers into the stretchy band of Luna’s peasant skirt, right over her hipbones. Luna shivered, goosebumps rising from the spot, and Ginny grinned, relaxing slightly.

“I’ll take care of you,” she promised, and it felt an odd thing to say, because Luna was the one continuously taking care of Ginny.

She pulled the skirt down as she fell to her knees, helping Luna step out of each side of it with careful hands on her calves. Luna only looked down at her over the long slope of her skin, glowing faintly in the candlelight. She wore only her flowered white panties, and Ginny only smiled at her, hovering closer to them, breathing hot breath over the front as Luna shivered, a smile tugging at her lips that was strangely akin to pride.

Ginny mouthed carefully over the front of the cotton, and Luna swayed on the spot, her body willowy and soft, moving towards Ginny’s seeking tongue and teeth as she probed over the top elastic, not quite reaching where Luna wanted her, sucking in soft pants as Ginny carefully bent her knees for her, toppling her to the bed and moving her way up between Luna’s legs still hanging spasmodically over the side of the mattress.

Luna whimpered, tugging at Ginny’s shirt, obviously annoyed, but Ginny pushed her fingers away patiently.

“Not yet,” she whispered, kissing the inside of Luna’s left knee. “Just wait.”

Ginny stayed below the navel, but trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses from between Luna’s knees up the alabaster insides of her white thighs, carefully circling the cotton to lave hot stripes around the top of her abdomen, biting gently when Luna squirmed, ticklish, and grounding her firmly into lust.

Luna didn’t beg. This both disappointed and surprised Ginny, though she tried not to let it show as she continued her merciless teasing. Luna, did, however, produce another range of gratifying gasps, whimpers, and moans that had Ginny squirming on her knees, already hot and wet herself, twisting her thighs together to give herself the tiniest friction against her denim shorts, writhing in ecstasy when she did so. She wanted this to be darker; filthier; sexier, but she also knew that a pleasant introduction to domination was the key to playing.

“You’re doing so well,” she praised breathlessly as she hooked two crooked fingers into the top of Luna’s underwear, and Luna shivered on the bed, grinding her hips in tiny, ineffectual circular patterns into the coverlet.

Ginny pulled them down slowly, enticingly, but inexorably. One day she would have the pleasure of introducing Luna to toys, to vibrating spells and sensitivity creams that would leave Luna crying with the exquisite torture, begging Ginny to-

Ginny had to stop, resting her head on Luna’s knee as she squirmed against the denim, overcome.

Luna raised herself up on her elbows to see what the pause was, and smiled at Ginny indulgently, the way she might if she had found a child sneaking cookies. Ginny only grinned guiltily before she stood, crawling her way into the bed beside Luna and snaking one of her own legs around Luna’s left one, nudging her knee up between Luna’s thighs, feeling the wetness of her already puddling against the sheets.

Luna squirmed against the contact, hoping to rub herself open on the knee, hoping to at last touch the sensitive node that was tight and hot and pulsing. Ginny obliged somewhat by dipping her hand between Luna’s leg’s, and this time Luna did make a sound, a high pitched keening as Ginny’s thumb and forefinger pinched down hard in the slick of her, her own knee pushing Luna further up the bed as Luna thrashed against her, hoping for friction.

“Say please, Luna,” Ginny begged her, her own clit throbbing and desperate, her hand curling into the softness of Luna trembling to fuck her.

“ _Please_ ,” Luna breathed, and Ginny uncurled her fingers from their grip and with the flat of her hand began rubbing it gently – unhurriedly – up and down between Luna’s cleft, feeling the hot slick of her melting over her wrist, her knee, Luna’s own thighs as Luna keened relentlessly, hoping for a faster pace, hips twitching into the sheets.

“You’re doing so well,” she praised her again. “Hold on for me. Hold onto the feeling of spiraling. Of falling.”

Luna held on literally, with both hands to Ginny’s hip cocked over her body, trying to press Ginny’s knee tighter against her, writhing ineffectually, but not begging. Only pressing. Only squirming. Only panting.

Ginny had never found her more attractive. She thought she would have wanted a broken, begging Luna, but the proud, quiet, desperate creature pulsing hot against her hand was breaking her own spirit. Ginny was rippling her hips in a fucking pattern, her knee pushing in small waves against Luna inadvertently. She couldn’t control herself. She suddenly wanted to finish Luna now and make her watch as Ginny stroked herself with the same hand, quick and dirty and fast, not at all like the torture of stroking Luna slow and inexorable.

She didn’t want to ask if Luna was close: it was too much a blow to her own pride, so she only turned her hand and slipped in her middle and ring finger without warning, feeling Luna clench with surprise and delight around her, pulling her deeper, Luna grunting and groaning in thrilling delight as Ginny set up a counter timed side to side rub of her clit with her thumb, Luna thrashing her head in time with it in short order. Between the pulling upwards, the pushing downwards, and her knee slowly receding away from Luna, Luna came. In gasps, in spurts, in tiny broken cries, she came into Ginny’s hand, the shudders of her orgasm rippling away into small spurts as Ginny slowly stopped, withdrawing her slick hand and wiping it on her own denim shorts as she fumbled with them desperately.

“Don’t,” said Luna in a gentle voice, her eyes opening and her hand stilling Ginny’s. “Don’t.”

Ginny obeyed without thinking about it, gritting her teeth and smiling for Luna hopefully. “Did you like it?”

“It was a very good job for a beginner,” said Luna, smiling politely.

Ginny stiffened. “ _What?”_

“I said you did a very good job.”

“For a _beginner?”_

“Well, that’s what you are. Beginner's luck.”

“I am not! I’ve done this loads of times!” With Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived on his knees before her, was one of her personal favorite treasures of their relationship.

“With someone else.”

“Well…yes.”

“But not with me.”

“You’ve never done it with me either!”

“Yes, but I’m not a beginner.”

Ginny glared at Luna, gaping in frustration, confusion, irritation. Luna’s hand was still clutched over her own at the waistband of her jeans.

“Then why did you make this so difficult for me? I was so embarrassed!”

“I don’t know why. You know you can ask me anything.”

“Luna!”

“Ginny.”

“Let go of my jeans.”

And Luna smiled serenely, in a glittering way that made Ginny pulse another hot molten wave under Luna’s hand. And by the way Luna’s smile grew, she had felt it.

“No,” she said simply.

“No?”

“You need to learn.”

“ _Learn?”_

“How to do it properly.”

“I did it properly!” Ginny sputtered, incensed. “You just came for me! And it was good!”

“It was good,” said Luna comfortingly, but with that same air of patronization towards Ginny she had heard earlier.

“You can do better?” challenged Ginny.

Luna only smiled at her again, using her other hand to push Ginny’s hair away from her face, still lying on her back. “It was very good,” she said again.

“For a _beginner_ ,” sneered Ginny, put out and horny and not getting off on this conversation in the slightest.

“We can dub you a novice.”

“ _Dub_ me?”

“Sub you,” teased Luna.

“ _Excuse_ me?” Ginny spat, incensed. “I am _not_ a sub!” She pulled roughly away from Luna, scooting a few feet back on the bed, annoyed at the cutting sensation of the denim band of her shorts in her stomach, so unpleasant and yet so much more friction than she had expected.

Luna actually sat up after her, naked and blithely unashamed. She perched on her knees in front of Ginny, a smile playing blandly around her lips.

“Yes you are,” she said quietly, authoritatively. “Because you think that being dominant makes the scene about _you_.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ginny warily, watching Luna settle herself into a cross legged position that clearly opened her to Ginny’s inadvertent gaze.

“Because you want to do what will make _you_ happy.”

“I made _you_ happy!”

“In your way.”

“In my _way?”_

“Yes,” and Luna smiled, making Ginny feel stupid and ignorant for not having a better reaction to this conversation than to repeat everything Luna was saying but with a different inflection. “You didn’t know what I _needed_. You didn’t give me what I needed.”

“I got you off.”

“Simply. Yes. In your way.”

“Stop saying that!”

“It’s the truth.”

“So you could do so much better? You know what I _need_?” sneered Ginny, and she wished she would stop. Her lust had transformed into anger, and she wasn’t concerned with sleeping with Luna anymore. Quite the opposite, she was so irked she wanted to sleep as far away from her as possible, which in their tiny flat share, meant the next room over on the couch. Ginny got up to stalk there, but Luna grabbed her hand.

“I always know what you need,” she said simply, her blue eyes wide, honest, and surprisingly wise. They made Ginny feel ignorant and childish and uncomfortable. She flushed out her freckles in a hot rush of annoyance.

“Right. Of course. Because you take care of _me_ ,” she mocked, the hurtful words spilling out of her before she could stop them, or take them back. “Because you have to guide _me_ in social interactions. Because you have to make excuses for _my_ behavior. Because you-”

“I don’t know about much,” said Luna quietly, her voice growing frosty. “But I know about you.”

Ginny was torn between storming off and anger and taunting Luna to _prove it_. Instead she did neither, only stared down at her, suddenly tired.

“Luna,” she said in a defeated, pleading tone. “Can we- can we just-”

“Go to bed?” asked Luna with a wry smile.

“Yes,” said Ginny in relief.

Luna’s smile vanished, her protuberant eyes watching Ginny as she leaned over to the nightstand for her wand. “No,” she said blandly.

 _“No?”_ Ginny yelped as the spell hit her. The ropes bound her securely as Luna walked over to her, staring down at her on the bed before leaning over and carefully slicing her shirt off with _diffindo_ , the spell leaving goosebumps on Ginny’s skin beneath it.

“Careful! Hey!” but Luna mended her clothes behind her, leaving them to fold themselves over the chair where they kept their still-clean clothes as she carefully stripped Ginny bare, Ginny not sure whether to yell for help, laugh at her own mortification, or writhe angrily against the ropes and this unexpected turn of events. She compromised by doing a little of all three.

“LUNA!” she bellowed, yanking her shoulders hard to get free, and feeling a rope that was tied between her legs suddenly cinch tight, parting her cleft and chafing her folds with a sudden little yelp.

“Struggling won’t help you,” said Luna serenely, carefully pulling on her own underwear and nothing else, staring amusedly at Ginny, trussed and tied with intricate ropework. Both her breasts were caught in a web knot, pulling tighter the more Ginny tried to thrash.

Ginny got her legs out from under her and thrust them straight, cinching the knots around both nipples with a sharp, painful pull. “Ah!” she couldn’t help the yelping, grunting, surprise.

“Magical rope tying,” said Luna mildly, as if she and Ginny were having a conversation over tea. “Can help someone tied up in knots metaphorically feel the pull and reaction within their own life-”

“Luna!” and Ginny was panicking slightly as she writhed because the knots were becoming tighter, and to her embarrassment she was becoming more aroused. The rope between her legs was pulling up more tightly, more firmly, pressing deliciously against her clit and as she writhed it rubbed it hard, making her spasm, pulling it tighter, in an ever smaller cycle.

“You feel trapped,” Luna said simply, leaning over to drop a kiss on Ginny’s sweating brow as Ginny thrashed. “I’m here to help you learn that not everything tying you down is a burden.”

“Wh-what?” sputtered Ginny, feeling a rope beginning to close under her chin and really scaring her. Luna threaded two fingers beneath it, leaving it loose, keeping Ginny safe. Ginny had never felt such a rush of grateful affection as Luna anchored her, holding her still suddenly with a cool hand on her heated stomach, keeping her from twitching.

“You feel an aggressive lust because you can’t take out that aggression in other parts of your life,” Luna continued, pulling on the ropes around Ginny’s breasts and making her gasp, shrimping around Luna’s hands, desperate not to let the rope around her neck close, but Luna’s fingers held it fast.

“Luna, this is-” panted Ginny, trying to find the words, but Luna only kissed her sweetly, chastely, on the lips.

“Let me help you,” Luna said instead.

“This is nuts!” Ginny spluttered. “This is not _normal_ , Luna. This is-”

“What you need.”

Ginny ground her teeth, frustrated. Luna didn’t understand. This wasn’t the way sex was supposed to work. Luna was shy and sweet and naïve. _She_ was the sub. She _had_ to be. Ginny was mortified to think she could be so weak as to be the _sub_. To _need_ the kind of care Luna said she did.

“Being taken care of doesn’t make you weak,” Luna said quietly, reading her face if not her thoughts. “Letting me take care of you makes the relationship more equal. It’s why you can’t find relief in our lovemaking-”

“FUCKING STOP!” Ginny bellowed. “FUCK LUNA, STOP IT!”

“You’re angry.” Luna said it calmly, but vanishing the ropes with a flick of her wand. For a strange, odd reason, Ginny missed them. Missed their anchoring weight fluttering against her pulse points. Missed the touch of Luna’s comforting fingers beneath her chin, keeping her safe. It had been a very visual representation of how Ginny felt: like she was drowning. Like only Luna was keeping her head above water. But that was crazy, wasn’t it? She was doing excellent. She was a professional quidditch star. They were naming elementary schools after her and Luna and Harry. Even her parents were doing well and George…he was doing as best as could be expected. And Bill was having _kids_ for Merlin’s sake! Even Arnold, her pygmy puff, was still alive and happy in a small pen on the other side of their bedroom.

“Of course…I’m…angry,” panted Ginny, naked and curled on the bed, feeling irrationally humiliated and vulnerable.

“You’re always angry,” Luna continued.

Ginny was silent. It was useless to deny it. She tried to mitigate with: “It’s just my personality Luna…look at George…look at Charlie…”

“Charlie isn’t angry.”

“He can get really angry.”

“It’s not the same.”

“George!” argued Ginny, but Luna just _looked_ at her, and Ginny knew it was a cheap shot. Of course George was angry. Half of George was missing. But that would mean-

“What are you saying?” Ginny asked cautiously.

“You aren’t the same. You never have been.”

“Neither are you!” Ginny fired at once, bristling at the mention of _him_. In her head. In her nightmares. In the back of her throat, holding down her tongue, dipping her fingers in hot blood of things _she_ killed. Of the things _she liked._ Or was afraid she did.

“I know,” said Luna simply. “I’m not the same.”

And Ginny broke. She didn’t know why it was so unfair for Luna to be so at peace with being tortured. At being captured. At being held prisoner. At putting it behind her when it was so very present with Ginny all the time, every day, in every way.

Luna gathered her up in her arms, though they were about the same size, even if wildly and differently and wonderfully put together. She held her the way a mother might, though Ginny had always pushed hers away, too scared of not being brave to dare to be soft.

“I’ll take care of you,” Luna whispered into Ginny’s ear as she shook. She didn’t sob. Just felt the hot murderous traitor tears drip down red cheeks. She shivered in anger and humiliation and injustice and _hatred_. In hatred of what she was because of what he did.

“You aren’t what he made you,” Luna murmured comfortingly. “You are who you always were. Just different.”

Ginny sniffed, snorting a bit. “Is it bad that everything you said just made perfect sense?”

“No. You love me. And I love you.”

“Yes,” agreed Ginny, unable to say more, only to swallow.

“And you’ll let me play you.” Not _with_ you. Ginny caught the difference. She shrugged a tiny, awkward shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“You do know.”

“I don’t want to. I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That…that it will…hurt,” whispered Ginny.

“Which is why you like being in control,” Luna explained unassumingly, as if Ginny’s tangled morass of complex past trauma was easily navigated and understood, when Ginny herself didn’t really even understand. “You’re afraid if you’re vulnerable-”

“I hate that word.”

“That someone will take advantage of you again.”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you say that when you’re too embarrassed to say ‘yes.’”

“Fucking stop,” said Ginny again, but with an affectionate laugh, tipping her head into Luna’s collarbone.

“I understand.”

“I don’t,” said Ginny in annoyance. “I never really even understand what I’m feeling most of the time.”

“So let me help you.”

“I don-” and she stopped, biting her lip. Luna was always wringing embarrassing things out of her. Why should this be different? But it was. It was the very Worst of Her.

“Okay,” she agreed quietly, humbly, pressing her hot, hurt face into Luna’s shoulder and reveling in the feel of protective, soft hands holding her hair, stroking it, using fingers to detangle it when Ginny wasn’t sure Luna had ever _owned_ a hairbrush before dating her.

Luna didn’t speak again. Didn’t press Ginny’s mortification further. She only kissed her temple, tilting her face up with loving firmness to be _looked_ at, even if Ginny’s brown eyes flicked downwards, avoiding hers.

Then Luna kissed her, long and slow and deep and calm. There was none of Ginny’s hasty hurry to get off. The urgency of hot, quick, dirty sex that Ginny so desperately craved in the pit of her stomach. The kind of getting off that was so strangely unsatisfying and left her horny again in minutes, craving another go round chalked up to her high libido.

She understood, all at once, that Luna had been gentle with _her._ That the sex had been sweet and slow and soft for Ginny’s sake…lost upon her completely. She groaned in frustration and anger and lust as Luna slowly settled her back on the bed.

Luna’s long hair was thrown over a shoulder as she settled herself further down the mattress, between Ginny’s thighs, and Ginny prepared herself for a slow, leisurely tongue fuck the way Luna normally did. She was both surprised and grateful, then, for the immediately latching onto her clit, and Luna’s strong suction and flickering tongue pushing hard against her, slamming her heels into the bed, driving her head to the wall behind it as she both bore down and wriggled from the inexorable pressure Luna was putting on her.

It was so fast, so hard, and so soon after Ginny’s own building orgasm that she thrashed in under two minutes chattering mindlessly: “Luna I need to –“

Her voice threading and unthreading, raveling into a rope as strong as those that had held her, halved her, and then unraveling into a spiderweb of sensation – “I need to-”

Luna did not change her pace. Ginny wanted her to pop off, to shove her fingers inside of her, to curl against her G spot, to pull her towards the ceiling, to get her off in a rush of hot, wet-

The fantasy itself brought Ginny so close to the edge, with the same unchanging terrible pressure from Luna, she was writhing, panting, crying out small _hnn, hnn, hnn_ that weren’t words and she came with a shout, riding into Luna’s mouth which did not change its pace or suction or pressure even as she felt Ginny’s clit soften slightly in her mouth. She immediately firmed it again between teeth and tongue and Ginny cried out:

“Luna! Luna!” as she crested again. And again. And on the fourth time she was shivering and her back was spasming and Luna’s mouth finally came off her and Ginny was hoping to float down for a rest. Yet Luna pressed on her abdomen with one hand, thumb finding the outside wall of her G spot and bearing down, laying all her weight on her as Luna laved her right nipple, pinching the other between two fingers while Ginny bucked against her, unable to throw her weight off so close – so close – so close –

“You’re here with me,” Luna said clearly, but not loudly, just under Ginny’s chin where the rope had been choking her. “You’re here with me, and I won’t let you go.”

Ginny arched even higher against Luna’s hand and Luna finally did what Ginny had been desperate for the whole time: she filled her with three fingers, curling inside of her, stroking and petting and caressing and driving everything else _out_ , making Ginny feel safe and whole and full and –

She came quietly, desperately, in a shattering shower of white stars behind her eyelids, and black dots creeping in at the temples. Luna quietly rolled off the bed, but only for the moments it took to come back with a warm washcloth, rubbing Ginny’s thighs and stomach, her sore sensitive breasts, and in long, hot swoops under the jaw that left Ginny trembling and almost aching for a fifth round, her body crying out at her to rest, please rest.

And for once, she did, came apart in Luna’s arms as Luna carefully held her together.

“I’m such an idiot,” Ginny murmured, too tired to cover her embarrassed face.

“Hmm?” and Luna was carefully tucking her hair behind her ear, making sure none of it clung to her sweating bare shoulders.

“To think I tried to school _you_ ,” laughed Ginny self-consciously.

“You did a very good job,” Luna praised, and Ginny giggled uncontrollably, turning on her side to bury her face in Luna’s shoulder.

“You’re silly,” she mumbled, and Luna’s chest rose sharply. Ginny thought she had offended her and raised her own head to find Luna smiling broadly, almost laughing.

“Yes, I am silly,” she said happily. “I want you to be silly too.”

“I can be silly,” Ginny murmured, grinning in the afterglow. “I’m silly all the time.”

“It’s when I love you best, silly,” Luna told her, kissing her eyelids lightly.

“I’m sorry I’m so difficult,” yawned Ginny, trying to hide the desperate truth.

“We’re just difficult in different ways,” Luna comforted her, the truth not quite taking the sting from the words.

“Maybe you could teach me?” Ginny asked hopefully.

“Teach you what?”

“How to take care of you?”

Luna regarded her with mild amusement. “I think we’re years away from that.”

Ginny shivered with delight. _Years._

“Maybe at least a bit? For a beginner?” she added, grinning.

“Oh I think we’ve graduated to novice,” Luna promised her, and she shut her blue eyes and was asleep as Ginny watched her, blending from reality to dream as easily as breathing.

It always took Ginny a long time to shut down her nervous system at nights, tossing and turning and settling, always afraid of waking Luna, but it seemed Luna had known this always, for even in her sleep she reached a hand for Ginny, resting it as a heavy weight on Ginny’s arm. It felt like a thick and warm comforting rope, a stay against the maelstrom of winds inside Ginny’s brain. She held onto it, and slept.


End file.
